The Dance
by Sean Montgomery
Summary: Part 3 of 7. During Christmas in Smallville, Lois and Clark find a moment alone to discuss their own issues... and the super secret Clark's kept from her for so many years. WINNER of the Superman Movieverse Award for Best Overall Short.


Disclaimers: Superman, its characters and storylines, are property of Warner Bros. and DC Comics. I'm just one of the millions who like to play in the sandbox every now and then.

Notes: This is something to tie you all over while _Underground_'s Eleventh chapter goes through the beta system. This was my entry to the 12 Days of Clois Live Journal today, and I figured that I'd share it with you all, too. For those of you who haven't checked out the board yet, I highly suggest you do! There's a great group of authors there who are getting ready to submit their stuff in the days leading to Christmas. It's open to the public, so I'll leave a link in my bio page for your easy access.

The only major detail I need to make note of here is that Lois knows everything in this story. _How_ she knows isn't really relivant. You just need to know she _knows_.

Dedication: I didn't do this at 12 Days, but I felt like I needed to do it here. This fic is dedicated in loving memory to my grandmother, Eula Mae, whom my family will be spending their first Christmas without. She was the first person who got it in me to write (though she didn't know it at the time), and I highly doubt she knew about it in her death. Because of her encouragement and persistance, I found what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Thanks for everything, Grandma. I miss you.

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The Dance  
By Sean Montgomery

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Lois lifted the mug to her lips and allowed the soothing heat of the tea to flood her mouth before swallowing. The flavor of raspberries remained on her taste-buds, washing away that eggnog taste that had lasted from earlier that evening. The soft, warm glow from the lights on the tree enveloped her in warmth and the instrumental Christmas music from the old record player made the Midwestern home seem nostalgic. Lois felt more content than she had in months.

_Longer perhaps, _she thought with a sigh, looking down at the mounds of crumpled wrapping paper that had yet to be cleaned from the floor. Scattered around them were Jason's toys he had received, forgotten in excitement when Martha had taken him out to the barn. Clark had joined them, saying he was going to do a little work… whatever that meant. 'A little work' to Clark Kent meant something entirely different to her than it did months ago. Everything about Clark seemed different now. Unconsciously, she rubbed the naked skin of her ring finger and wondered how Richard was doing and how he was handling everything.

The back door opened with a creaky groan. From her position cuddled in the corner of the couch, Lois had to crane her neck to get a good look into the kitchen. Clark came through first, his attention was completely focused on someone else… Martha walked in after with Jason in her arms. The boy was sound asleep.

"Really Mom, it wouldn't be a problem," Clark was saying, doing his best to take Jason into his arms. "I'd be able to make it up the stairs easier. He's got to be heavy for you."

"Nonsense," was Martha's stubborn answer, as she used her elbow to swat at Clark's hands as much as she could. "A grandmother is supposed to have enough strength to lift her grandchildren. Besides, you seem to forget that I worked the farm all by myself for several years after you left."

Clark stopped in his tracks and took a peek through the kitchen window at the barren fields covered with snow, the old barn in disrepair, and the farm equipment filled with rust. He smiled at her. "Sorry, Mom – I guess I forgot."

"It's a good thing I'm holding your boy in my arms, Clark Kent, or I'd make you pay for that one." The tone was complete mockery filled with affection and amusement. Martha twisted her way past paper and toys, once again berating Clark for being so worried about her carrying Jason to his room… his father's old room. When she got to the stairs and threatened to do something very un-Christmas like if her son followed her up, Lois couldn't help but finally break into giggles. Taking another sip from her mug, she grinned at Clark. "It looks like you aren't going to win this one. Even Superman needs to let his Mom win on occasion."

Martha's smile was beaming with victory. "I knew I liked her," she said to Clark, then slowly made her way up the stairs. Clark remained frozen at the bottom, his hands twitching as if he were resisting everything inside telling him to make sure she was going to be okay.

"She's going to be okay, you know," Lois said, watching Martha's careful steps disappear from view. "If she could handle you as a kid, I'm sure she can handle Jason."

Clark sighed and finally turned from the stairs. "She's not as young as she used to be, and though she'll deny it, it's putting a lot of pressure on her back. She won't even tell me when it hurts anymore… what?"

Lois was giggling again, and the sound was pure joy to him. "She's not a fragile china doll, Clark. If she wants to rest, she will when she's out of your sight and tucking her…" Lois looked away. "Jason into bed."

_Amazing how a slip of the tongue can change the attitude of the entire evening, _Clark thought, willing his face not to fall at her words. It was obvious that while she had the appearance of comfort and domesticity, there was a part of her still wounded over everything that happened. Clark couldn't blame her. Telling her his secret _before_ he invited her to his family's Christmas in Smallville hadn't been the _brightest _idea, but it certainly was better than bumbling, golly-gee-whiz Clark asking her. It was time she knew everything anyway. _Even if she isn't particularly happy about it._

Thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he slowly made his way into the living room, carefully watching her to make sure he wasn't invading her space. Eventually settling himself into a chair across from her, he took his mug from the coffee table and took a sip. He didn't know if it was cold or not, but seeing the lack of steam only confirmed his suspicions. Using his heat vision in front of her didn't seem like a good idea, so he pretended like it hit the spot.

The room was bathed in awkward silence. The two simply stared at each other, but neither was willing to talk. Martha wasn't making any noise upstairs, but Lois was certain that he could look through the ceiling and investigate if he wanted to. _God, what a thought to get your head around,_ she thought, wondering what he was listening to – if anything at all – and wondering how he was able to drown it out with the noise of the rest of the world. _Clark Kent, the same man who spilled coffee on his keypad last week, who tripped over the doorframe, who ran into an _open door_… is Superman._

Even thinking it was hard enough! This man before her, without the glasses and staring at her so curiously with those blue eyes of his, was her best friend and comrade… and once her lover. He was Jason's father. At that moment, nervously taking another drink from his mug, he looked nothing like either of the two men she knew, and at the same time it was like she was seeing an old friend. He was even biting his lip like Clark did every time he drank something… then he was putting the mug on the coffee table and leaning his arms on his knees, folding his hands together in front of himself. "So," he began slowly, the rich tone of his voice rumbling throughout her being, "we've got some things to talk about."

"Understatement of the year," she said under her breath, then mentally slapped her forehead. Of course he _heard_ her. The slightly wounded look in his eyes said everything. Suddenly she was uncomfortable again. "Could you at least _pretend_ like you can't hear me?"

"I've always been able to hear you, Lois. Even at the _Planet_ I could hear you. I was just able to hide it."

_Well, there's no avoiding it now. _"Fine," she said irritably, setting her mug on the table and straightening herself on the couch so that she was facing him. The awkward silence returned, but not for long. Pointing at him, she said, "So, about you being…" Not able to finish the sentence, she motioned her hand for a swoop. Clark grinned ruefully, pointed at himself, and made the same swooping motion.

"You were going to tell me… when?"

"Lois, I didn't _want_ to keep this from you."

"But you did! You didn't even tell me when you left! You didn't even _see_ me when you left – not as the reporter _or _the superhero!"

"If I had, I wouldn't have been able to leave. You've got to understand, Lois; laving you to find Krypton, even if I didn't know whether it would still be there, was the hardest thing I've ever done. Once I found out it wasn't really there…" His voice faded. "Once I found out what Luthor had done, I couldn't believe that I had been fooled. Everything inside of me wanted to take back those five years I missed. But I can't. And when I saw you with Richard and even Jason… it was like a slap to the face. The one thing I wanted – the love of my life, a family, a _home_ – wasn't mine to attain." He was staring at the coffee table, and then suddenly his eyes gestured to her naked ring finger. "I'm sorry about Richard."

Lois unconsciously rubbed her finger again. Weeks after the ordeal with the _Gertrude _and New Krypton, Richard had told her that he thought it best to end their engagement. There was pain in his eyes as he said it, and she tried to reason with him the best she could. He was the only father that Jason had known.

"_And what about his real father?" he had said. "Lois, you told me yourself that there are things Jason can do… the incident with that grand piano… how am I going to explain that to him? The truth of the matter is that I can't. The only man that can is the only man that's ever truly had your heart. Don't look at me like that. My heart wants to fight for you, Lois Lane, but in the end I know that Jason is going to need the father who can teach him everything. Despite how good our intentions may be, I'm _not _that father." _

Returning the ring, watching Richard walk out of the _Planet _doors for the last time, was heartbreaking. The man deserved better. He deserved better than _her_. She had no idea where he was today, or where he had called from earlier. He had promised her before he left that he would call her cell phone and wish Jason a Merry Christmas, and he stayed true to his word, calling them that morning and listening intently while Jason described in great detail all the toys he had received. It had made his day while it broke her heart. _Richard deserved more than this._

"It's fine," she finally said, feeling her earlier mood invade her once again.

The awkward silence returned. Clark hated that his secret identity was the biggest wedge between them and their relationship. What was the problem?

You_ are, you big dummy. If you hadn't left, the love of your life wouldn't have gone through all she did, and she wouldn't have had Jason alone…_

"He's a bright boy," he said quietly, staring fondly at the toys on the floor and the wrapping paper surrounding it. "I see a lot of you in him."

"I see more of you as the years go by. And I don't mean the super-strength, either." She had gathered enough nerve to look back at him while taking another sip from her mug. The edge of her thumb circled a small portion of the rim. "A's in math and science… I knew that couldn't be from me."

He chuckled softly at that, and Lois couldn't help but be somewhat relieved at the sight on his face. The man had held so much heartache over the years and she had to admit that the image was now strange on him. When they first met, she was so used to his easy-going personality, that smile that would light his face when he looked at her or saved someone. The same smile, she now realized, that she always saw on Clark Kent.

"Was I really so stupid?" she asked suddenly. His brow furrowed at her question. "With the disguise, I mean. Was I really fooled by a simple pair of glasses?"

That amused smile spread slowly on his face. For a moment he looked around the room then spotted the glasses on a nearby chair. Walking to them, he picked them up and sat down next to her on the couch – not on the cushion beside her, but on the far edge, respecting her space but wanting to prove his point. "I think it was more than that," he said thoughtfully, slipping them on and turning to her. He raised his eyebrows as far as they would go then grinned again when the frames fell on his nose. He pushed them up.

As much as the gesture amused her, something about it was still strange to her. Still, his statement made her brain work, trying to connect all the pieces to the puzzle he was obviously trying to show her. "There was more… besides the glasses and suit?"

He took a look around the living room then faced her again. She stared back blankly. "Am I supposed to be getting a hint?"

"Think of the _Planet_. What does Clark Kent have that Superman doesn't?"

_So he wants _me _to figure it out, _she thought, tracing her steps back to the bullpen and all of its familiar surroundings. There was her desk in the corner of the room with Jason's drawings and that terrible Pulitzer plaque that she still had for whatever reason. There were the few steps it took to get to Clark's desk, with all of its pictures and simple office supplies here and there…

"A stapler?" she said dully. At his confused look, she sighed. "Oh, come on, Clark. I just spent the day inhaling farm air. Forgive me if my brain is a little muddy right now."

"Superman doesn't exactly _need_ a stapler. What's on my desk, Lois?"

She sighed, a part of her wanting to dive into this little mystery he was setting up for her, and another part just wanting him to get to the point. "Contact notes, office supplies, a bunch of pictures of you and your family when you were a kid, some of Norm Palmer's old research, you computer… tell me when I'm getting warm."

"You already said it: pictures of me and my family." He took off his glasses and let his blue gaze pierce through her, much like Superman had so many years ago. "Superman has no family to speak of. His family is dead, and, as far as the rest of the world knows, there's no place for him to connect to his heritage. Of course, you and I know differently." He then put his glasses back on and raised his shoulders, nervously gesturing and speaking in higher tones. "Clark Kent, however, is the farm boy who can't have the farm taken out of him. He's got lots of pictures of his family, and he has a background he can speak of. So, because he's got one and Superman doesn't, there's no way Superman and Clark Kent could be the same man." He stopped and took the glasses off again, staring thoughtfully at them. "It's subtle, everyday things, Lois. It's not just the glasses or the suit."

_I should have thought of that, _she thought, then pushed the feeling down when she realized just how right he was. Superman knew his world was gone, but Clark Kent was as safe and sure in his family than in anything else. "I've never thought of it that way before," she admitted.

His grin was thoughtful and amusing when he set the glasses down on the coffee table. "Me neither, until just now. And I was the one putting on the act."

Outside, the wind blew strongly, making the house settle and groan. Some snow flew outside the window, but the two didn't take notice. There was a sudden weight in the room that had nothing to do with awkwardness, and everything to do with… everything else. Lois knew that sitting here and not resolving anything about their relationship was only going to make sitting here (and working together) that much more worse, but something inside of her was still wounded, still confused over why he had kept a secret like that from her for so long.

"I'd have kept your secret, you know," she said quietly, knowing full well he could hear her.

"I know. You told me that once, and I believed you then. It's not that I didn't want you to know, Lois. It's that knowing was too hard for both of us to bear."

"We could have done it together."

"Could we?" he turned to her, worry over the question evident in his eyes. "Lois, I saw your face when all of it was over. The secret was killing you inside. To be so close and yet so far, knowing what we shared but unable to do anything about it… could we have done it together? Can we do it _now_?"

Looking back into his eyes, Lois took her time in answering. "I don't think we have a choice, Clark. What are we going to do when Jason gets older? What are we going to do about it _now_? You said you could see that the secret was killing me inside. Well, now that I have to know, for Jason's sake if nothing else… you tell me how to do this, Clark. Tell me and we'll make it work."

He sighed deeply. "It's not that easy. People are going to notice the change. They're going to notice how we treat each other differently, or how Jason acts when he comes into the _Planet_. Did you think it was strange before, me disappearing at random times? Imagine what people will think when you start making up excuses for me!"

"Then we pay attention to little details. We work at it, day after day after day after day until we get it right! I don't care what people have to say about _us_, Clark. Surely, if you've been able to hide Superman all these years, then we can find a way to be _us_."

The two locked eyes again, and between one moment and the next, everything changed. Clark was frozen in his seat, staring back at Lois with something similar to shock. It took her a moment to realize that he was thinking about what she just said.

Us.

Not Lois and Clark, reporters and comrades.

_Us._

"Us," he said quietly, testing the word.

"Us," she confirmed, suddenly wondering why her mouth was dry when she said it. "If there is an 'us' to work with."

His face relaxed with relief, and the way he was trying to contain his joy was adorable. Deep inside, though, she could see how hesitant he was to dive into anything so soon. Turning to face her more fully, he studied her a moment. "Are you _sure_ you want to do this? To try this?"

"I was willing to before General Zod, wasn't I?"

"But you wrote that article afterward."

"I was pregnant. Blame it on hormonal imbalance."

That seemed to bring him out of his somber mood a bit. The light returned to his eyes, and his smile was slow and welcoming, full of warmth and possibilities. "It's going to take a lot of work."

"I agree. I don't think we've worked out all of our issues yet, but I'm willing to try." A thought suddenly struck her. Unable to stop a grin, she stated, "You're going to be a great dad."

The blood drained from his face. He had been so captured in the thought of them as a couple that he honestly didn't stop to consider that one important element. "How are we going to tell Jason?"

"We'll tell him sometime. I don't think we have to figure out all of the answers tonight." She yawned, turning to the old record player when the needle went off the wheel. "I can't believe your mom still has one of those things. I didn't know they still made records."

"They don't," he said, standing to put the needle back on. "At least, I don't think they do. I've had more important things to worry about than the production of records." He turned to her and grinned.

Slow and soulful Christmas instrumentals bathed the room in warmth. Turning back to her, Clark stopped and took a moment to study Lois on the couch gazing at the tree, the lights reflecting in her eyes, a small smile playing at her lips. Leaning her head forward on her hand, she took a deep breath. "Just like Christmas should be," she whispered.

_Almost, _Clark thought regretfully. Though the domestic image tugged at his heart, he knew the questions looming above them were much bigger than lights and music. There were a lot of things they still had to work out. There were so many actions left undone. In his mind, this image of Lois, sitting in Smallville with the Christmas tree lights bathing her in warmth, was what he had wanted for years. The only thing missing was the ring on her finger and the promise of forever. Would she even want it in the long run? Could she really hold the weight of the secret on her shoulders? Their conversation earlier ran through his mind once again.

At this moment, despite all the questions they had looming above them, what did it matter if they were _both_ willing to try?

He would help her carry that secret and somehow, together, they'd answer those questions and make the confusing mess between them work.

Standing a bit straighter, he took two slow and lazy steps toward her, quickly committing the image before him to memory before she turned to him. With a slightly nervous smile, he held out a hand to her. "Would you think I was being corny if I asked you to dance?"

She blinked back at him, fighting a smile. "Do you even know how to dance?"

"My mom taught her boy right. Do _you_ know how to dance?"

"I never said that."

Her quick answer told him everything. Letting his smile grow, but keeping his hand still, he assured her, "It'll be okay. I can help you fake it."

And somehow, with those words, Lois felt all the pieces of the puzzle click together. It seemed ridiculous, really, thinking about how their relationship was going to work when all he said was _it'll be okay_, but somehow… with those words… she believed him. This went far beyond a dance, she realized. It was a touch of what they could be. And he was offering it to her whether he knew it or not. He never moved, never said another word to her while she stared at his hand. It was completely her choice, and he was letting her make it.

Was he even aware of the gravity to which she was granting this simple gesture? _Can you read my mind? _Of course she knew he couldn't, but for that one moment, oh how she wished he could…

Releasing the afghan blanket from its warm place around her body, Lois reached out and took his hand. As much as he tried, Clark couldn't stop a small grin from gracing his features, and he moved back several steps to give Lois room to stand nearer to him. Timidly, trying to respect her space, he slowly reached out his hand and placed it on her waist, half-expecting her to issue a warning over its position and consequences if it moved.

She did nothing. In fact, both of them were staring intently at the other, both as nervous and suddenly lightheaded as the other felt. His left arm was awkwardly stiff in holding her right, and it took a moment for her to place her hand on his shoulder. When the music grew during the middle of a song, they started to slowly move. It had no sign whatsoever of experienced dancing, but then again, the two were so far away from each other it was like watching two boards float side-by-side on a river – no equal movement, everything forced.

He hated it. He hated the timidity he felt in being near her, hated that the five year gap in their relationship suddenly was taking on a physical interpretation. He hated that she could barely look at him when all he had wanted to do was be near her without invading her space. _This was a bad idea._

He heard her gulp, and her quiet whisper of, "So Smallville, are you going to dance with me now, or are we going to stay stiff as boards for the rest of the evening?"

He blinked back at her. Keeping his eyes trained on hers, doing his best to read her reactions, he inched his hand further around her waist and pulled her closer to him. He saw the same things in her he felt in himself: nervousness, confusion, desire, longing, love. Hope. The closer he pulled her to him the more she relaxed, and the more he found himself easing out of his tense state. He lost himself in the warmth of her hand on his shoulder, the fragility and smallness of her hand held protectively in his own, the trust he saw building in her eyes. They stood closer, but suddenly not close enough.

But it was enough for now.

Lois could feel herself getting slightly dizzy, and she was sure it had nothing to do with thoughts of chestnuts roasting on an open fire. While the Christmas classic continued in the background, she found herself getting lost in the openness of his gaze, struck by how amazing it was that she could read him so well. He was as nervous as she was, excited by finally being close to him again, longing to be closer despite the small opening they had made in the doorway of their relationship. He was as easy to read as that day so long ago when she finally accepted one of his lunch invitations. A thought suddenly struck her.

"Do you remember that day several months ago when you and I went to that Chinese restaurant?" she asked quietly, feeling as though increasing her volume would disrupt their moment somehow. He nodded back at her. "I was going through all sorts of details about what happened and how it was all resolved. We tiptoed around all the events with General Zod because… because I didn't remember." She glanced down a moment, gathering her thoughts and trying to focus through the haze his warmth and closeness provided. "Why didn't you tell me then?"

He sighed deeply. "I wanted to, but there were so many questions surrounding you and me. You were still engaged, Luthor hadn't been found… it would have been more on your plate than you could have handled. I can't imagine how you would have felt if you had known _everything _at that time."

The tension began to settle again, and Lois, desperate to keep it from coming back, thought quickly for anything to say. He knew she knew his secret, which meant he knew she remembered the Fortress…

"So, what does this make the Fortress of Solitude?" she asked suddenly, her mouth crinkling in amusement when his brows furrowed. "Is it our little love shack now?"

She honestly wasn't expecting the force of the laughter that shot out of him at her non sequitur. He laughed like she hadn't heard in years, his eyes closing in merriment and his head dropping to his chest. His shoulders shook under her arms. It was a delight she hadn't felt in a long time, and certainly longer since she had last felt it with _him_. When he lifted his head again, his eyes were bright with amusement and he could barely contain his smile.

"Well," he began, still chuckling when he looked at her. "I honestly haven't thought about it like that before."

"Kind of makes you look at things a little differently, doesn't it?"

"Lois, _anything_ with you makes one look at things differently." He grew momentarily distant, and as quickly as it happened it was gone, the light still sparkling in his eyes. "I'm never going to look at the Fortress the same way again."

When he met her eyes, the complete seriousness in their hazel depths nearly undid him. "I never did."

The two nearly stopped dancing. The moment was amplified by another song drawing to a close and flooding the room with silence. Clark looked back at her, desperately trying to discover what she meant by those words. Was it because of the things Jor-El had said or because of what happened that night…?

"So many things happened while we were there, Clark," she began, choosing her words carefully but keeping her eyes locked with his. It was the only way she could think of to let him know that she still cared. "I learned your identity, I got the man I loved to love me, and you gave up your abilities… all in one day. Coming back home from all of that… how _could_ I look at it the same way?"

Another silence, both absorbing the other's expressions, trying to decipher what it meant. Lois was having a hard time understanding what was flashing behind those blue eyes of his, but before the words came out of his mouth, she knew what he was going to say.

Softly and tenderly, words full of hope and fear of rejection, he said, "Do you regret what happened that night?"

She only allowed a second to pass before responding just as quietly, "No." Then, giving him another second to think about her answer, she leaned her head closer to his. "And it's not only because of Jason." Then she squeezed his hand lightly, hoping to convey without words what she meant.

His expression didn't change right away, but his eyes brightened considerably. When he smiled it was brighter still. She could feel her heart swell at his obvious joy, and she couldn't resist smiling back. She couldn't resist the attraction that was breaking through her once again. There was always something about this man that drew her to him, and now that she saw him fully – for the second time – she felt surer about her feelings than she ever did. He wanted to take the chance with their relationship. It was time she let him know the same.

It was then she noticed how the two of them had been getting closer since they had relaxed. The tension had melted away and in its place was the unmistakable feeling of trust. Taking a risk she knew he wouldn't mind, she stepped closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, close enough that her forehead pressed against his neck. It was closer than they had been in years, closer than their flight above the _Planet_, and Lois couldn't deny the overwhelming feeling of open wounds being mended.

Clark had been listening intently to her heartbeat throughout the evening, but listening to her heart rate increase made him watch her more intently. When she laid her head on his shoulder settling closer than he could have dreamed she would have wanted to that evening, he felt his own heart skip a beat. The scent of her shampoo flooded his senses. Overcome with emotion, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, drawing her nearer 'til their joined hands had to break apart. Her arms never stopped moving, one making its way over his broad shoulders and around his neck while the other wrapped around his side… pulling _him _closer to _her. _His heart swelled. One of his hands settled on her shoulder, content with letting himself be held by the woman who held his heart. It was comfortable. Warm.

Love. Like the love he had felt that night, only this time there was healing involved.

Angling his head just a bit, he whispered to her, "We've still got things to work out."

"Uh-hmm," came her lazy response. He smiled gently. Then it faded with his next thought.

"I'm sorry I left, Lois."

She sighed deeply. Or maybe she was irritated. All she knew was, at that moment, he was there with her, and she really didn't care that it was the millionth time he had apologized. He was so _warm_… "I know. I forgave you a long time ago."

He paused again, his breath near her ear. "I wanted you to know; I'm not trying to make this work – make _us _work – just because of Jason."

He could feel her smile pressing against his collarbone. She leaned back and looked at him, her eyes slightly drowsy but still full of life. "I know," she answered, "because I feel the same way."

It was undeniable, the electricity that suddenly shot through the air when their eyes met. After her admission, it felt like lightening had struck the two of them. Their relationship was a big pile of confusion and secrets and hurts and old wounds… and it was just as alive now as it was years ago. Lois couldn't deny it anymore than the man before her could. The pull to be near him was as strong as iron to a magnet. She _wanted _to put her head back on his shoulder and let him hold her, but something in his eyes spoke volumes to her, and it was something only she understood. He was close enough that she could feel the breath from his nose hitting her face, and it seemed he was only getting closer.

_In fact, that's _exactly_ what he's doing…_

Clark knew he was crazy. He knew it was too soon. He knew that one wrong move could break the fragile structure they had just built for their future together. He also knew that if he didn't, something inside of him would continue to ache like it had when he saw her with Richard. If he didn't, the heartbreak would be worse than the night above the _Planet. _Lifting the hand from her shoulder, he gently touched her face. She didn't waste a second in closing her eyes and cuddling into its warmth. It was all the permission he needed.

Just as the sounds of a jazz orchestra playing "I'll Be Home For Christmas" filled the room, Clark closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to hers.

* * *

Martha honestly couldn't remember falling asleep. Glancing at the clock, she discovered it was well after three AM – a good seven hours since she had put Jason to bed.

_And what an elderly thing to do, too, falling asleep by your grandson's bedside after telling yourself that you're just going to rest for a moment…_

Listening to his quiet breathing, she lifted her head and glanced at his face, grateful that he was still sound asleep and hadn't moved a bit. Jason's hair was messily strewn across his forehead and his eyes were tightly shut. Out like a light.

Easing herself off the mattress, Martha adjusted the blankets around her grandson. When he remained still, she took a chance and kissed his forehead. No movement.

_Entering the elderly phase with all the stealth of a cat, _she thought with a smug grin, slowly backing to the door, thankful for its squeak-free hinges when she finally closed it.

She drew her sweater closer around her, the warmth of Jason's body fading as she stood in the cool hallway. She looked at the window across the hall, noting the snow and frost on the window, and cursed the draft blowing through. Forget that it was December – her old age was making clear that she couldn't really take this cold season anymore. Her back ached painfully when she moved to her bedroom door, proving her point.

Before her hand reached the brass handle, she realized that there was light streaming in from downstairs. Surely Clark would have turned off all the lights and turned the heat down when he went to bed… Taking a few steps down the stairs, she realized the lights were streaming in from the living room. And, if she listened closely enough, it sounded like static coming from there, too. Had he left the TV on?

Rounding the banister, she took a look into the living room and stopped mid-step.

The needle on the record player had slipped off the record, filling the room with static and occasional popping. The TV was off. The lights, on and off the tree, were still on. Surrounded by the warmth of the room, Lois and Clark were standing in the middle of it, holding on to each other while lazily swaying back and forth, back and forth… there was no rhythm to their movement. They simply refused to let go of each other, lost in the moment they had created while grandma was dozing with their son. From her position, she could see Clark resting his cheek on the top of Lois' head, while she was leaning heavily on his shoulder, the occasional movement of her fingers the only sign that she wasn't asleep. His arms were wrapped tightly around her, surrounding her in comfort and warmth.

Martha slipped a hand over her heart, overcome at the contentment on both of their faces, especially from Clark. _My boy… you've fallen so hard for her…_

Martha was getting ready to turn and quietly head back up the stairs when Clark adjusted his head. Lois didn't mind the movement at all; in fact, she wrapped her arms around him even more, getting that much closer to him. With both of their eyes still closed, Martha smiled and put her hand on the banister, taking a step backwards.

Then Clark opened his eyes and looked straight at her.

_Sneaky boy. You knew I was here all along, didn't you? _The look he gave her revealed he knew what she was thinking, letting a small smile grace his features. She smiled back, pointing to herself then the top of the stairs, signaling that she was going to bed. Clark gave her the slightest of nods then waved his fingers at her, masking it perfectly by raising his hand and threading his fingers through Lois' locks of hair. He obviously didn't want to break the moment for her. His trick worked well enough. She sighed deeply in response.

Martha grinned back. The look he was giving Lois was one of complete adoration. He closed his eyes again, breathing deeply, as content and happy as she had seen him in years. Forgetting about the lights and thermostat, Martha rounded the banister once again and made her way to her bedroom. "Just don't let her go this time, Clark," she said under her breath.

Clark's smile grew even more. Holding Lois tighter and lowering his head slightly, he was able to cuddle closer to her, hearing the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat drum in his ears and her even breathing soothe his soul. _Just don't let her go this time, Clark._

He couldn't have done it if he tried.

* * *

Merry Christmas, everyone!!

_What are you thinking?_

_Press the small purple button,_

_Please tell me your thoughts!_


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